


One Shot

by Squeeb100



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Gen, Reconciliation, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 11:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19208056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeeb100/pseuds/Squeeb100
Summary: Thor really, honestly, truly didn't want to be sent back to Asgard for the Aether. He really, honestly, truly didn't want to see Loki. Until he did.This is the AU where Thor actually acknowledges Loki's existence in Endgame.





	One Shot

Thor had politely requested not to be sent to Asgard or New York. His request was politely denied on the grounds that he was the only one who knew how to navigate the palace and the only one who knew where Jane would be at the precise time of their landing. But he had pleaded. Desperately, suddenly with more energy than he’d had in a long time, that Stark please, _please_ not force him to go back there. He didn’t want to be reminded of all that he’d lost. He hadn’t wanted to see Jane or his mother and he didn’t want to even _think_ about-

But if Stark was right, and this was the way to make it right, then it was the least he could do. _One shot._

Traveling through time was almost like traveling by Bifrost—the same rush, but disjointed. Where the Bifrost was--had been--all color and light, this was fragments. _He_ was fragments. Where the Bifrost forced him over long distances far too quickly, making him feel stretched out and fast, this forced him back through an iron sieve which pushed and pushed and tried with all its might to keep him from bending and shattering the only rules it had known. It was exhilarating and strange and it almost hurt when his everything slammed back together near the back of the palace, leaving him dazed and winded, blinking dumbly.

The ‘raccoon’ ( _kind rabbit,_ he’d smiled, in another life) let out a low whistle. “They weren’t kiddin’ when they said it was made of gold,” he muttered, almost to himself, padding toward a gleaming wall. Thor was still standing there, hands on his knees, wishing he’d maybe forgone that last beer. Or that he had an extra with him now. Things were starting to come into focus a little too much for his taste.

It didn’t feel real.

He didn’t know if that was a side effect of time travel or a side effect of being back _home_ after six years of mourning its destruction, but it didn’t feel good. From their current position he could look out over the city and see his people milling about. _Norns,_ his people. Halved and then halved and then halved once again, the population of New Asgard was paltry compared to the street traffic he could see below. He could smell the stables and if he turned to his left, which he wouldn’t, there would be the gates to his mother’s rose garden. This didn’t exist. It had been destroyed, it didn’t exist, and yet it did. It didn’t feel real and it didn’t feel good and it was going to feel worse, Thor realized, before reminding himself once again _not_ to think about it.

“Hey, Thor, you good?” The raccoon (Rocket) asked, casting a concerned glance over one furry shoulder.

“I—yes, fine.” There was the rainbow bridge in the distance, finally repaired (more flashes, memories he wanted _buried)._

“Oo-kay. Then we’re good to go?” Rocket did a strange little dance, jerking both thumbs over his shoulders as he shifted from foot to foot. “You lead the way, big guy, how’re we getting in?”

 _The door,_ Thor thought foolishly. There would be guards. There were always guards, and he couldn’t be seen, not looking like _this._ Anyone with eyes would know he didn’t belong. He wracked his addled brain (he felt a headache coming on) for any entrance which would be unguarded. And with a sudden, unexpected pang, he remembered. Flashes: a shock of dark hair, giggles and quiet promises and ducking quickly behind and under, then marveling at the _cleverness_ of such a secret path and being forced to promise again and again not to tell.

“Follow me,” he said, and doing so felt like a betrayal.

Their borrowed entryway, hidden in plain sight, led them through a crumbling courtyard, lost to time, and down. _Into the dungeon,_ Thor realized too late. He didn’t stop, though his feet dragged (begging him to turn around) and his heart raced. He wondered if Rocket noticed his hesitation.

 _Just don’t look. Eyes straight ahead._ “Follow me.” He motioned for Rocket to emerge into the hallway.

Thor wished he had brought his sunglasses, for the light from the bright overhead fixtures and cell fronts was _blinding._ He squinted and set forward at a steady pace, the raccoon keeping step with him.

“Guards,” Rocket hissed, and they ducked into an enclave for a moment, pressed as flat against the wall as they could be while they waited for the _Einherjar_ to pass. Thor silently berated himself for not even noticing their presence. Five years ago he would have, perhaps before even Rocket with his sharp animal senses.

“How long ‘til they come back around?” Rocket hissed once the guards were safely out of range.

“A while yet,” Thor mumbled. “Asgard’s dungeons are vast. Come, the stairs are this way.”

And the plan would have gone off without another hitch, Thor told himself, if a sudden sharp glint hadn’t caught his scattered attention. He turned his head for only a moment and stopped in his tracks as Rocket scampered ahead.

The glint, he quickly learned, was from a small cup being tossed and caught in a bored rhythm. It caught the light as it reached the top of its path, then dropped back into the slender hand of a very alive, reclining Loki.

For all the times Thor had seen his brother come back to life, he was particularly stricken by how young this Loki looked. When this Loki had appeared on Earth, Thor had been startled by how deranged and sickly he appeared compared to the brother Thor had known. But even as gaunt and mad as he looked (recently returned from his quest for the Tesseract), this Loki was less _tired_ than he had been when he died six years ago on the Statesman.

It never became less strange seeing his dead brother alive again, but this was all the stranger for his knowledge that Loki _was still dead_ and that this was merely an echo of him.

“Thor, buddy, what are you doing? We’re on kind of a tight schedule here—” Rocket trailed off as Thor stepped slowly toward the cell, transfixed. “Oh. That’s…that’s the brother, huh.” It wasn’t a question and Thor didn’t provide an answer, barely hearing his companion’s complaints at all as he approached the energy barrier. Loki’s eyes, still following the rise and fall of his little metal cup, turned toward him. He was awarded only a cursory glance at first, but then Loki did an honest double-take and sprung to his feet, the cup clattering to the ground, forgotten. Rocket cringed at the loud noise.

Loki strode toward the barrier brazenly, meeting Thor face to face. His expression was in turmoil, unreadable as usual, and he moved his head around slightly almost as if he believed a different angle would reveal that he was, in fact, seeing things.

“Thor?”

Damn. He shouldn’t have walked up to the cell, honestly hadn’t realized he was doing it—now this past Loki would know about future Thor and it was all very unclear but wasn’t that supposed to have an impact on the future, or create a separate timeline or something? Thor had been very drunk during that briefing. He instinctively turned away, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his face in vain.

“Ah, yeah? Yes? It is me, yes,” he babbled, trying to hide.

A glance to the side revealed that Loki appeared to be somewhere between furious and entranced. He hadn’t yet forgiven Thor for capturing him, or anything else that caused him grief, Thor realized. Another knife in that metaphorical wound.

Loki paced across the cell to where he had a better angle and could look Thor directly in the face again. And blinked.

“What the hell are you doing here?” is what he finally asked, and Thor turned away a bit more with a shrug, avoiding eye contact as much as he was hiding his face. “Come around again to gloat? We’re all very impressed with your heroics, I’m sure, though you really have quite let go of yourself in the past weeks What in the nine is happening?” His tone lifted from dark to mocking to utterly baffled within moments. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh I-I, I always wear this, this is one of my favorites,” said Thor truthfully.

“It is not, it’s ridiculous,” Loki argued, in that catty tone that made affection surge in Thor’s chest, chased by clenching grief. “And what’s wrong with your eye?”

Thor could have turned and left. He thought to himself, for a split second, that he probably _should,_ because Loki was far too perceptive. But he couldn’t…couldn’t _help_ himself. He’d thought he didn’t want to think about Loki ever again, that it would be too painful, but now that he was here he was drinking up his brother’s presence like a man dying of thirst. He was desperate to erase those horrible final moments which replayed in his mind again and again, _you really are the worst, brother,_ and Loki choking, kicking out desperately for something to stand on, some way to escape the crushing pain, Thor helpless to do anything but watch as the life drained from his brother. Maybe this was the way to do it. Maybe this would mask the pain, when nothing else would.

So while turning and leaving would have been the smartest possible decision, Thor decided to take the opposite route. He made the worst possible decision and lied. To _Loki._

“Oh, my eye, it’s, you remember the, the battle of Haroquin, when I got hit in the face with the, the broadsword?” He laughed nervously. As the words left his mouth he knew it was the wrong decision, watching condescension and disbelief flicker over Loki’s otherwise smooth countenance.

“You are not the Thor I know. And you’re a terrible liar,” Loki drawled, looking at Thor with new interest, as if he was some fresh curiosity, some new bauble discovered on one of their crusades. “Where are you from?”

Rocket, who had been politely allowing Thor his reunion, chose this time to butt in. “Hey Thor, buddy, remember that tight schedule?”

“What’s that?” Loki asked, at the same time as Thor told Rocket to “Go ahead without me. The stairs on your left, then take a right. Jane is at the end of the hall.”

Rocket hesitated, looking torn, before making a decision and scampering away, muttering something to himself about _walk a mile._

“’S Rocket,” Thor explained, gesturing lamely toward the place the raccoon had been.

“And it talks?”

“Yes, he is an extraordinarily intelligent and kind creature.”

“And what are the two of you here for?” Loki’s resentment and curiosity really appeared to be at war as he tried to decide how to handle Thor’s existence.

“We’re from the future. Here for the Aether.”

“The Aether?” Damn, again, _again._ “It’s on Asgard? Jane has it, then?” Thor took a split second to run back over the conversation and figure out how Loki knew that _Jane_ was on Asgard. And then: “Wait, the _future?”_

“Yes. Nine Midgardian years in the future.”

Loki blinked, slowly, as his eyebrows made a solid attempt to enter the stratosphere. “I would say you were lying, but you are undeniably Thor and you are undoubtedly not from _this_ time or place.” His guarded expression fell back into place. “Why does Midgard need the Aether nine years in the future? You should have learned your lesson from the Tesseract, that’s far too much power for mortals to handle, they’ll lose it immediately.” He took a long moment to make what seemed to be a painful decision before his steely eyes locked onto Thor’s. His tone darkened. “There are powers in this universe beyond your imagining, Thor, there are those who seek to destroy _everything_ you _cannot_ take any more stones to Midgard Thor he will find them and then—” Loki was blabbering now, looking panicked, and Thor was taken aback. This was all new information.

Thor hedged around his answer for a moment before giving up. “We need it, Loki. We need all the stones, they’re our only hope to undo…something, really, er, bad.”

Loki looked at Thor hard. “He did it, then.”

Thor held Loki’s gaze. “He did.” Would this ruin everything? He didn’t think so, Loki didn’t have anything to do with Thanos, or so Thor had thought until moments ago. But there was nothing Loki could do now to change anything in the future, was there? Would his fate be different just because he knew? Was that even possible? The past was the future or something, Stark said. Thor didn’t understand at all.

What he did understand was this moment.

One shot.

Thor stepped as close to the energy barrier as he could, feeling it prick his skin, and looked steadfastly into his brother’s eyes. Oh, _Norns,_ why couldn’t he just _stay_ here? In this moment, when Asgard was whole and Loki and Frigga and Odin lived and Hela and Thanos weren’t even shadows in his peripheral vision?

“Loki, I…” what could he say? What could Thor possibly say that could make up for _the shade of your greatness, imagined slights, you really are the worst, brother,_ everything he’d said and done? Loki held his gaze with remarkable composure and Thor didn’t feel _real._ “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Loki’s face opened up into raw emotion, an indecipherable mass of feelings.

“I’m sorry,” Thor repeated. “I’m just sorry.”

Loki looked like he wanted to say _you should be_ and then like he wanted to say _for what_ or _I don’t want your pity_ or _leave, now_ or _I’m sorry too._ Instead, he said nothing.

“And I know you don’t believe it, now, but you’re my brother and I love you. I, I know you hate me now, and I’m sure you hate me in the future, but this is my only chance to tell you that I would do anything for you. And that I’ve long forgiven you for what you’ve done.” Thor ached to reach out and touch, to cup his brother’s face or neck or hug him.

Loki was silent, and Thor feared he was going to shout or deflect the apologies or simply turn away wordlessly. He couldn’t read anything in his body language, just a cold, calculating gaze.

“I hope you are successful,” he finally said, voice barely louder than a whisper. “And I hope my death was glorious.” The second part was half a jest, but it made Thor’s throat and chest constrict painfully.

“It was,” he choked out. He couldn’t form any words to follow.

“Now go,” Loki urged him. “Before the guards finish their rounds and find you.”

Thor hesitated, drinking in Loki’s presence, before he turned away. He only made it a few steps before pausing in his tracks. Surely he’d changed so much by now that one more hint wouldn’t hurt.

“Loki,” Thor added over his shoulder, and was greeted by an open inquisitive look that reminded him suddenly of the Loki he’d spoken to on the Statesman. “There will be an attack this evening. Protect mother for me.”

“I’ll protect mother for _her,_ you oaf, now get out.” The mischievous glint in Loki’s eye betrayed his aggression. He smirked. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't beta-read so I just KNOW there are bad commas (for reasons boiling down to pure fuckery and not my usual 'screw the rules I have artistic license'). Also please correct me if I have any details wrong I barely caught myself before I made myself look like booboo the fool by saying it had been one year since the snap rather than SIX.
> 
> This was harder to write than I expected it to be because Loki, at this point, is still an obstinate little bitch. Trying to keep him in character while also giving this something of a satisfactory ending was HARD. I originally intended to try and show how Loki could have served the same narrative purpose as Frigga did but it just isn't the same. He couldn't teach Thor that lesson reliably and still be in the fic I wanted to write, so. 
> 
> Also the Russo brothers' explanation of time travel is a cop-out and they don't even seem to know how it works and Thor's impulsive enough that I decided this gave me free license to stick my hands in there and just kinda mush around the plot details
> 
> Idk if fics like this exist already I'm 100% sure they do but here have mine
> 
> Please leave kudos/comments if you finished this and liked it! Thanks buddies


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